“But then … why wasn’t she in any of the police reports?”
Twig and I pored over that investigation. At least, the parts we could get our hands on. There was not a single mention of Clara Green, not even an anonymous female friend of Simon’s. Lily’s friends made the report. John and Maureen’s friends made the reports. Why not my mother?
“I don’t think anyone knew of their friendship outside of the family. Master Simon didn’t go to the public high school, and Miss Clara was new to town.”
“But you knew.”
He nods.
“So, why didn’t you say something?”
“Because Miss Clara had nothing to do with it. I spoke with her that very evening, in the produce aisle of Kroger. She was a kind young lady, and she made Master Simon very happy. I saw no reason to drag her into the mess when the loss itself was devastating enough. And besides, she left town shortly after.”
“Who was she staying with?”
“Samuel and Marlene Abner.”
“Do they still live here?”
“Of course. They no longer foster children, but for a time, they were a revolving door for theparentless. I was upset when they sent Miss Clara away. I worried a great deal for her, and did for many years, until she came back to visit.”
I blink at him. “Came back?”
“Why, yes. Five years ago, I believe.”
“Clara Green came here five years ago?”
Tulane nods.
The air in my lungs goes still. “What did she want?”
“It seemed to me she was looking for closure.”
“How long did she stay?”
“It was a brief visit. I’d say no more than an hour.”
“Did you see her leave?”
“I walked her to her car.”
I gape at him. And then, with a gasping inhale, I turn on my heel and leave. Like doing so might defrost my lungs. Get them going again. I hurry away, grabbing at my neck, trying to breathe. I rush past the fountain, down the cobbled drive, when Jude calls my name. I don’t know when the tears began. I only know that when I face him, my cheeks are wet.
“She came to seehim?”
The question seems to cause him as much pain as it causes me.
I wipe at my face. “Why wouldn’t she come to see me?”
“Maybe she didn’t know you were here,” he offers.
I shake my head. If that’s true, then the theoryI’ve been building, the hope I’ve been harboring—that my mother isn’t just here, but has gone to great lengths to draw me here to her—falls to pieces. If she visited Tulane five years ago and left that same day five years ago, then she couldn’t have drawn me here at all.
My throat closes up again. “I have to go.”
“Selah.” Jude takes my arm.
Not roughly, like Rafe.
